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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28017933">Still Ill</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyheyheywhatcanid0/pseuds/heyheyheywhatcanid0'>heyheyheywhatcanid0</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Who (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:02:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,515</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28017933</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyheyheywhatcanid0/pseuds/heyheyheywhatcanid0</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"ask me why and I'll spit in your eye."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Roger Daltrey &amp; Pete Townshend</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Still Ill</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Are you sure he went back home?" Pete asked John in a worried as he put on his coat. <br/>He received a nod from the bassist as he removed the cigarette from between his lips. </p><p>"I'm one hundred percent sure. Don't worry Pete, he's okay." He reassured his friend, but in reality, nobody knew where Roger went after the show.</p><p>Keith had to go back to his place, so he was the first one that left. <br/>John was waiting for the taxi to come, as Pete looked for Roger everywhere.</p><p>He and Roger were never good friends, but he slowly got closer to him, and he realized that they shared tons of things, from flaws to likes, they just had strong attitudes.</p><p>The guitarrist tapped his right feet as he stood in the middle of the street with the bassist, and turned his head at the dark alley close to the venue they played, looking for the blonde.</p><p>Suddenly, Pete snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a black car stopping by. John brushed Pete's shoulder slightly as he waved at him, threw his cigarette and got inside the car, going back home.</p><p>The lanky man huffed, as he started to lose his patience. Roger went outside to buy something, but he didn't come back. </p><p>He walked into the dark, dirty alley. <br/>He wasn't hearing anything until he heard some choked sobs and coughs that he tracked behind a trash can.</p><p>He peeked over it only to find his frontman sitting down, with his knees pulled up to his chest, bleeding from his hands and nose. <br/>With one arm, he held his torso, and with the free one his head, his new, long curly hair was a mess. He cried quietly, as he might haven't noticed Pete's eyes.</p><p>Pete gasped in shock as he kneeled down and pulled Roger to his chest. "Holy crap you scared me mate... You had me worried..." He let out as he felt Roger's arms around him.</p><p>The taller man broke the hug and looked at him. He needed to clean him and help him. <br/>"Roger, let me help you. I'll drive you to my place and you'll stay there with me, you're not in a good shape to go by yourself to yer place..." Townshend offered him. "My car's parked somewhere, but please, let me help you."<br/>The blonde opened his tear filled eyes and glanced at him. "Pete... Thank you... But-" he got interrupted by a cough that worried Pete.</p><p>Peter helped him stand up, having enough of Roger being hard headed, and held his hand, as he tried to find his car. </p><p>He eventually found the black car, and opened the door so that Roger could join him in the driver's side of the car, and Pete sat in front, as he put on his seat belt and told the frontman to do the same, started the car, closed the doors, and blasted his way to his home, going as fast as possible.</p><p>Roger held his chest, as he felt like if he had a Keith Moon in his heart, it was going too fast, he wanted to tell Pete to slow down since he was getting anxious, but decided to remain quiet.</p><p>"You okay?" Pete asked the blonde as his eyes were on the road. <br/>The curly haired man nodded in response. </p><p>They miraculously arrived to Pete's house, where he parked the car in front of it, and opened the door for a groaning Roger.</p><p>"Do you need any help standing up? I could carry-"<br/>"No Pete," Roger interrupted him as he whined, "I'm okay." <br/>He got out of the car slowly, and moaned a little, as he grouched in pain from the kicks and punches he received before.</p><p>Pete rolled his eyes and closed the door when he realized the blonde had gotten out of the car. </p><p>Then, he picked Roger up bridal style to the door of his house, and opened it up, letting the blonde in, and he closed the door from behind as he got in.</p><p>Pete thought of how he and Roger were going to spend the night. He'd tell Roger to shower so he could later clean his wounds, and during that he'd start to prepare dinner, and afterwards he'll give Roger some clean clothes as he will clean his later.</p><p>"Rog?" The taller man asked the blonde, who sat on the chair close to the kitchen. "Take a bath so that I can clean you properly."</p><p>The blonde hissed in pain. "I'd prefer you clean my wounds first and then the bath." He croaked. </p><p>Pete furrowed his brows. "Well but you don't want to catch somethin' worse, do you?" He asked, as he hung his coat in the coat hanger that hang from the wall.</p><p>"N-no, b-but if I bathe in hot water it'll hurt me wounds and-"</p><p>"No it won't." Pete interrupted him coldly. "Take a bath. You'll feel better." </p><p>The blonde gulped as he stood up from the chair and walked with difficult towards him.</p><p>"Pete... I don't want to take it-"</p><p>"Ok!" Pete snapped at him, glaring at him with intensity, his voice getting higher and louder. "Good! Fantastic! Fuck you! You always want to do whatever the fuck you want to do and you'll screw yourself! This is the first fucking time in a long time I was genuinely worried about you and this is how you treat me?! Like what?! I was going to help you because you look bloody miserable! Scratches all over your pretty face! Blood coming out of your hand! You got kicked in the gut too because you keep wincing in pain! Fuck you! I hope you bleed to death!" He screamed at Roger.</p><p> He never screamed that loud at him, and he regretted his speech instantly, as he looked at his bandmate again, who was in the verge of tears, as he started to slowly go upstairs.</p><p>The taller man rolled his eyes as he went straight to the kitchen and started to make some spaghetti with a homemade tomato sauce. <br/>He heard the water running from upstairs, and choked sobs.<br/>Pete sighed as he held his head, leaning over the doorway as he realized that he should also change his ways of behaving towards Roger.</p><p>The blonde felt terrible. Yes, he shouldn't have been so hard headed and keep ignoring Pete's ideas, but what he told him hurt. And a lot more than the kicks and punches in his stomach close to his scar.</p><p>He opened the bobbin of both the hot water and cold water from the shower, as he undressed himself and threw his bloody, dirty clothes onto the dirty clothes can that was across the room. <br/>He got under the shower, as he let the lukewarm water fall on himself, on his wounds, his curly hair, and sat over the tub, as he started to cry, and pull his knees close to his chest. </p><p>The sauce was already done at his point so Pete threw the raw noodles in the pot of boiling water that was over the burner in the oven.</p><p>He heard from the bathroom, located upstairs, that Roger closed the bobbins from the shower, and that he apparently got outside the shower.</p><p>The guitarist waited for the sauce and spaghetti to get done.<br/> After five minutes, he turned off the fire, and decided to serve the food in two, clean porcelain plates. <br/>He grabbed some parmesan cheese and grated some cheese with a grater over the noodles.</p><p>He then quickly put the spaghetti and the sauce in two different tuppers, and put them inside the refrigerator. </p><p>He made the table and quickly placed the plates over it, and ran upstairs to check on the blonde.</p><p>Roger, with his hair dried and a cream colour towel wrapped around his waist, was sitting over the bathtub's  edge, waiting for the guitarist. <br/>He heard a knock so he stood up and opened the door. </p><p>"Hi..." Roger squeaked as he sat on the edge of the bathtub again. <br/>Pete looked down in guilt as he opened the door of the closet and took the first aid kit out of it, and then closed it. </p><p>Pete sat on the floor, in front of Roger, as he opened the white box and took some disinfectant, cotton, bandages, scissors and band aids out of the box. </p><p>"Gimme your hand." Pete ordered him, as he looked up at Roger, whose eyes were red from crying. <br/>The blonde gave him his hand, and dipped some cotton into the opened disinfectant bottle. He grabbed Roger's right hand tightly. </p><p>"Crush me fingers while I'm disinfecting you, I deserve it anyway." He told him, as with the other hand he cleaned Roger's bloody hand, making him yelp and cry. </p><p>The smaller man grabbed his hand tightly, like if he depended on it. After he disinfected Roger's hand, Peter wrapped a bandage around his hand and tied it, so that it wouldn't fall. </p><p>"Okay..." Pete said to himself as he got on his knees and held Roger's face with his hands, "You have minor scratches over your face, they'll cure soon. Wait here, I'll get you some clean, warm clothes and we'll go downstairs for dinner, okay?" He elaborated, as he started to put the elements from the aid kit inside the box, and put it in his wardrobe, as he went to his room and looked for some pajamas he didn't use anymore for Roger.</p><p>The blonde followed him from behind as he was in Pete's room, looking at how he threw a night shirt, pants, and a clean pair of socks and underwear for him.</p><p>"There you go." He spoke as he left the room so that Roger would change himself.</p><p>The blonde wouldn't take long to change himself and go downstairs, where the slender guitarist waited for him in the dining room.<br/>He sat in front of Pete, as he started to eat the pasta, almost nibbling the noodles because he wasn't in the mood for eating, and when there was very little left of the food on the plate, he stared at the wall.</p><p>" 'S everything alright?" Pete asked with a mouthful of pasta in his mouth.</p><p>He knew Roger wasn't okay, but he thought acting a fool would make things better.</p><p>"Really? After all you've told me half an hour ago? Yes of course everything's under control." Roger spat, not bothering to make eye contact with him.</p><p>Pete looked down in guilt, as he lifted his plate, fork and cup and left it on the sink under the tap of the kitchen, as he also removed Roger's cup and cutlery. </p><p>He noticed what was left in Roger's plate. "Will you eat what's left from your plate?" Townshend asked the smaller man.</p><p>"No." Roger squeaked, not staring at him.</p><p>"Roger I'm sorry. I apologize for snapping at you. I made things worse for you, and I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. You don't deserve this." Pete finally apologized to him as he threw the remains of the spaghetti in the bin and cleaned everything in the sink, leaving it to dry in the corner of the kitchen.</p><p>He returned to the dining room as he noticed a sobbing Roger, who was cleaning his tears with the sleeve of Pete's sweater, that was a bit big for him. </p><p>He ran to the blonde to wrap his arms around him and pull him for a hug.<br/>"I'm sorry Rog. I'm so so sorry. You've been doing so well, and you've been kind to me-well us since the Keith incident, and I could never give that care back to you... I apologize..." He reflected as the blonde hugged him back, sniffing. </p><p>«Tell him that you're proud of him.» a thought ran around his head.</p><p>"I'm proud of you. You're evolving a lot as an artist. You changed so much, and it's definitely for the good. Don't worry. It'll be alright." He comforted him. Roger broke the hug and glared at him with teary eyes.</p><p>"Really?!" He squeaked, rubbing his eye with the palm of his hand. The taller man nodded. The blonde smiled in response and sniffed a little, trying not to cry again.</p><p>"Thank you." He thanked his guitarist for the comment. <br/>"You're welcome. Would you like to share my bed with me?" </p><p>"Really?" The blonde asked.</p><p>"Really." </p><p>Daltrey shrugged in response and followed the lanky man upstairs to his bedroom, where he undressed and dressed in his pajamas. Meanwhile Roger got in bed, as he pulled the mattresses close to him. </p><p>"Y'know you're pretty great too. You are just great! I always admired you, and your profile anatomy is fantastic." Roger complimented Pete. As the big nosed man got inside the bed, he raised an eyebrow. "Really?"</p><p>The blonde nodded. <br/>"Well you know what? You have a fucking nicr girlfriend who wants it to make it work like you do and who lets you be with your female friends, you're so pretty, everyone wants to have your greek god body and wants to taste it, everyone wants your stupid blonde hair and your stupid blonde curls and your stupid great voice and-"</p><p>He turned his head to face a sad faced Roger. </p><p>"Could you stop shitting on me for one fucking moment?" Roger asked, interrupting Pete, his voice getting louder and higher, as he rapidly lifted his borrowed sweater and shirt to show Pete his true "greek body." </p><p>He was pretty thin and petite. He has always been like that. Commentary about his looks and body would greatly affect him, thank goodness he met Heather and she boosted his confidence for the better, but he had "greek god body."</p><p>"You have short term memory that you forget about all the things you've said 'bout me? I am no greek god, and you hate me!" Roger spat at him in sadness. "I'm upset, please... I just want you to respect me for who I am, to take me seriously, and to treat me nicely. I never bullied you for your nose. I just..." </p><p>Pete noticed how thin and low his voice got in a matter of seconds he hugged him. "Oh god sorry Rog... I need a slap-"</p><p>Roget slapped him on the face. Pete held his cheek with his hand. "Thank you, I apologize for everything really. I've been mean, and you don't deserve this. You really don't, and I'm sorry." He hugged Roger as he apologized to him. "You just have everything I would like to have."</p><p>"You think that but you don't want my curls, nor my crooked jaw, nor my body. I'm worse." Roger ranted.</p><p>"You aren't. You're just different... And that's good." Pete assured him between yawns, as he turned off the light of his nightstand.</p><p>Roger smiled in response, realizing what Pete said, but before he could tell him anything, Pete was snoring and fell in his slumber. </p><p>"Thank you." Roger squeaked with a smile as they both fell asleep in their arms, safe from all danger.</p>
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